


sometimes i wonder (how i ever lived without you)

by PhantomFlutist



Series: Error!AU [5]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Error (Music Video), Cyborgs, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, i just needed to write this okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomFlutist/pseuds/PhantomFlutist
Summary: Hongbin has regretted a lot of decisions that he couldn't take back, but he could never regret this one.





	sometimes i wonder (how i ever lived without you)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look more Error!AU. I meant to post this last week but it wasn't finished, and then it got long and I decided to split it into two parts. The second will be posted next week, assuming it's done in time. I'm working on an updated posting schedule and I will share it with you guys as soon as I know what's going on.

 

When Hongbin gets home it’s to the sounds of Wonshik banging around in the kitchen, singing along to some sort of terrible hiphop music from the dawn of time. The apartment is warm and smells like hot oil and garlic, and four years ago Hongbin never would have guessed that he would find another place that looks and feels and _smells_ like home, but he has.

He slips off his shoes and shuffles into the kitchen in stocking feet, wraps his arms around his husband and presses a kiss to his shoulder, long and lingering.

“Hey,” Wonshik says, turning the music down a bit. He has a wooden spatula in one hand and the handle of a frying pan in the other, and Hongbin knows bulgogi when he sees it.

Even so, he asks, “What are you making?”

“Dinner,” Wonshik replies, his voice a lilting tease. He sets the pan down and turns to give Hongbin a proper kiss, hand running down to cup Hongbin’s butt because he just likes it, apparently.

Hongbin swats him anyway, says, “Stop groping my fifty-year-old ass.”

“This ass can’t be a day over thirty,” Wonshik snorts, squeezing it before pulling his hand away. He goes back to cooking before the food can burn, and Hongbin starts setting out napkins and utensils on their little kitchen table.

The rice cooker beeps (and isn’t that something he’s had to get used to, owning a rice cooker for the first time in twenty years) and Hongbin scoops out a bowl for each of them while Wonshik plates the rest of the food. The kitchen is small enough that they keep bumping hips as they work, but it’s something that Hongbin has come to love rather than an inconvenience.

With the table full, Wonshik pulls Hongbin in for one more kiss before they sit down. “I missed you today,” he murmurs, his mouth still only a breath from Hongbin’s. “How was your first day as a science project?”

Hongbin laughs and shoves him and sinks down into his chair at the table. He takes a few bites and chews thoughtfully before he responds. “I barely got introduced. Hyuk, he…found out who he is. They spent most of the day playing catch-up.”

Wonshik, who has just followed suit and sat down to eat, drops a chopstick into the kimchi dish with a clatter. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid,” he says.

“What?” Hongbin pauses halfway to shoving rice in his mouth. “Did you know something?”

“Not really,” Wonshik says, shaking his head. He picks up the chopstick he dropped and starts poking at a piece of kimchi. “It’s just that…I hacked some government labs for him, a few months back. And the main scientist at one of them, the name that was on almost all of the reports for two decades, had just died a few years ago, and I wondered. It didn’t line up perfectly with when we met Hyuk, but then I really had no way of knowing when they’d been taken, and I couldn’t find a picture of him anywhere.”

“And you could have guessed,” Hongbin finishes for him, setting down his bowl so that he can lay a hand on Wonshik’s forearm and still his mindless movements. The piece of kimchi looks kind of like swiss cheese now.

Wonshik nods. “I should have done more digging.”

“I think it was good for him to find out this way,” Hongbin says. He goes back to eating and it prompts Wonshik to do the same. “It was hard at first, but then he was surrounded by familiar people. They all clearly love him a lot, and they barely asked what happened. I think they were too happy just to have him back.”

“Is it a good thing, though?” Wonshik asks with what seems like half his bowl of rice in his mouth. Honestly, the man is forty-two years old and still eats like a teenager. “What if it gets out? He’s an illegal cyborg and he’s working in a government lab. He could get arrested.”

“So am I,” Hongbin points out.

Wonshik huffs. “You know it’s not the same. You have immunity. He doesn’t.”

Hongbin shrugs and gives himself a moment to let that sink in. He was nervous going to the lab this morning, but now he’s…not. Something in him says that everything’s going to be okay. “I think that entire team would fight to protect him, if it came to that. From what I saw, they’re fiercely loyal to him. He was their mentor.”

They eat in silence for a while, the clink of chopsticks against dishes the only noise in the quiet room. Hongbin’s gotten used to this, just being quiet in Wonshik’s presence. It’s nice sometimes. They both just need to think every once in a while.

Hongbin’s bowl is mostly empty when Wonshik speaks again.

“Things have changed, you know. Being a cyborg isn’t as much of a risk as it used to be.”

Hongbin stands and starts to clear the dishes. “We know that, but most people don’t. The entire country grew up being told horror stories about cyborgs killing people in fits of unprovoked rage. A culture doesn’t just get over something like that overnight.”

“Then we find a way to facilitate change,” Wonshik says. He stands as well, brings his bowl to the sink as Hongbin pulls on rubber gloves and starts the water.

“Does it have to be us?” Hongbin asks softly. He looks down at the dishes he’s washing instead of at his husband’s face. Things have changed in the past few years, between them and inside Hongbin himself. He’s not afraid of speaking his mind in front of Wonshik, and he doesn’t struggle with not wanting to live anymore. They have a good life together and Hongbin is happy. He doesn’t want anything to jeopardize that.

Wonshik cards a hand through Hongbin’s hair and drops a trail of kisses down the side of his neck. “Not if you don’t want it to be. But Hongbin, what if everyone else who knows what we know says the same thing?”

“Then I guess we keep hiding,” Hongbin replies, sighing. He rinses a bowl and sets it aside, grateful for the mindless task to work on while having this conversation. “But we have a lot on our plates right now, Wonshik.”

“I know.” Wonshik bites his ear teasingly and asks, “Netflix and chill?”

Hongbin makes an indignant noise. “Oh my god, Lee Wonshik, you are not using four-hundred-year-old memes on me right now,” he exclaims, swatting at Wonshik’s escaping form with wet, soapy gloved hands. He calls after him, “Netflix hasn’t even _existed_ for two hundred years!”

The only answer he gets is Wonshik’s giggling, the sound disappearing into their bedroom.

He can’t help the smile that stays pasted on his face even as he finishes the dishes and sets his rubber gloves aside. God, he loves that man.

And he loves him even more when he makes it into the bedroom to find that Wonshik has traded his jeans and button-up for soft sleep pants and no shirt. He’s reclining on their bed with a book in his hands and a pair of round, silver wire-framed glasses perched on his nose.

Hongbin leans down to kiss him, bracing a hand on the headboard so he doesn’t topple over.

“Mm, hey,” Wonshik mumbles, his eyes tracking back down to his book long enough to slide a bookmark into it and set it aside on the nightstand. “I wasn’t serious about Netflix and chill. If you’re tired we can go to bed.”

Hongbin snorts a little, presses another little kiss to Wonshik’s mouth and says, “It’s eight o’clock. I’m not that much of an old man.”

A familiar smirk spreading across his face, Wonshik says, “Well in that case,” and then he’s grabbing Hongbin’s hips and tugging him down onto the bed. Somehow he ends up on top, covering Hongbin with the warmth of his body and trailing kisses down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt to get to his chest.

Sighing into it, Hongbin responds with firm fingers along Wonshik’s shoulders, massaging out the tense spots from sitting in front of a computer all day. Wonshik groans in pleasure and bites down on Hongbin’s nipple, and it’s familiar and thrilling and _good_.

“I love you,” Wonshik says, because he’s almost always the first to say it, even now.

Hongbin cups a hand around the back of Wonshik’s neck and arches into his touch as his mouth trails lower. “I love you too,” he mutters. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.”

Wonshik is always willing to oblige him. He takes his time pressing kisses along the dips below Hongbin’s pecs and tracing the lines of his abdominals with his tongue. They started working out together a couple of years ago, and it made Hongbin feel good to have his body returning to the way it looked before his life went to shit.

It certainly makes him feel good when he sees the way Wonshik reacts to it. He’s panting against Hongbin’s skin, and as his mouth trails over to Hongbin’s bellybutton and stops for a moment, and his fingers stroke over the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband, Hongbin can feel him rocking down into the bed, just little rolls of his hips because he’s so turned on. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Hongbin slides his fingers up into Wonshik’s hair, says, “Come here.”

Wonshik’s graceful slide up over his body is like a stripper giving him a very intimate lapdance, and Hongbin gasps roughly even as he seals his lips to Wonshik’s.

They lose themselves in kissing for a while, synchronized in a way that comes from four years together and a lot of time practicing. Hongbin’s hands run down Wonshik’s back, find the spaces between his ribs and the curve of his spine and the smooth lines of scars from various injuries and surgeries over the years. He knows every inch of Wonshik’s skin but it doesn’t stop him from mapping it, over and over, reminding himself that Wonshik is here and alive and safe.

One of Wonshik’s hands starts to fumble at Hongbin’s fly. The other forearm is pressed to the mattress next to Hongbin’s head, holding him up so that he doesn’t crush Hongbin. Not that he would mind terribly.

Their kisses slow as Wonshik directs more and more attention to the button on Hongbin’s pants—and he’s using his left hand, for fuck’s sake, no wonder he’s struggling—until Hongbin finally takes pity on him and drops a hand to pop the button and pull the zipper down himself.

“I had it,” Wonshik insists between kisses. Their lips don’t even part properly as he speaks.

Hongbin fights the urge to laugh and instead cups Wonshik’s head in both hands to pepper kisses all over his face. “I know; just thought it’d be faster if I did it.”

Wonshik pouts a little and his lip is so soft and red and swollen that Hongbin can’t help biting it, just a tiny bit. It surprises a little whimper out of Wonshik and he renews his efforts to get Hongbin’s pants off, tugging fruitlessly at the waistband, which is obviously stuck underneath Hongbin’s ass.

Huffing out a little breath of amusement that is not quite a chuckle, Hongbin arches up, lifting his hips off the bed to give Wonshik room to pull his pants and underwear off him in one fell swoop. He manages to work them down to Hongbin’s knees and then ends up kneeling on the floor, complaining, “Why the fuck are these so tight in the calves?”

Hongbin props himself up on his elbows and watches his husband struggle. “Because you like my legs,” he says shamelessly. Wonshik literally picked these pants out for him a month ago. “You loved them when we bought them.”

“Yeah, well.” Wonshik tugs at one leg of the pants and it finally comes off, taking Hongbin’s sock with it. “Now I hate them. I’m throwing these out; you’re no longer allowed to wear anything that takes more than ten seconds to remove.” He gets the other leg off, pulls off Hongbin’s other sock, and then gets back up on the bed and crawls over his mostly-naked body. “On second thought,” he hums, his fingers skittering up Hongbin’s sides beneath his still-open shirt and making him shiver, “you’re just not allowed to wear pants. Ever.”

“That might distress my new coworkers,” Hongbin says, gasping as Wonshik’s clothed thigh brushes against his cock. He’s not fully hard, but he’ll definitely be there soon, especially if Wonshik keeps sucking beneath his ear like that. “And people on the street. I’ll probably get arrested.”

“No,” Wonshik growls, nipping playfully at the join of Hongbin’s neck and shoulder. “You can just stay here all day, and we’ll both wander around naked and have a lot of sex.”

Hongbin chuckles, somewhere deep in his chest, and clutches Wonshik closer as he begins to rock against him. “I don’t think the social worker will like that.”

Wonshik’s brow crinkles. “Fuck, that lady freaks me out. Please don’t talk about her while we’re having sex.”

“Technically, we are not having sex yet,” Hongbin points out with a snort. “Currently you’re just rutting against me like a horny teenager.”

Wonshik bites him again, a little harder this time. “Shut up,” he mutters. “Just…give me two seconds.” He has to climb off Hongbin to get to the bedside table, and Hongbin sits up and starts to shrug off his maroon button-up, because he has lost too many good shirts to sex-related incidents already.

“Wait, no!” Wonshik says, distressed.

Hongbin freezes with the shirt hanging around his elbows and blinks at his husband for a moment. “What?”

Wonshik clears his throat. “Can you…leave it on…maybe?” he asks.

It’s the hesitance that tips Hongbin off. “Oh my god,” he says slowly. “You have a kink.”

“It’s _not_ —“ Wonshik tries to protest, his voice going high.

Hongbin scoots forward and silences him with a kiss. “You just had to _say_ ,” he tells Wonshik, very seriously. When Wonshik stays frozen, he pokes him in the ribs. “I’m not gonna judge you, Shik. We’re _married_. And honestly, compared to some of the things you could have told me, ‘I like it when you wear your dress shirts while we’re fucking’ is very, very tame.”

Wonshik’s shoulders relax down out of their defensive posture and he leans in for another kiss. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why I’m being weird about it.”

“Three months into our relationship I asked you how you felt about fisting. We can talk about this shit,” Hongbin reminds him.

“Yeah,” Wonshik says. “Sorry. Back to the hot married-people sex?”

Hongbin can’t help the snort of laughter, but he nods in agreement and shrugs back into his shirt, crawling forward over Wonshik’s lap and kissing him very thoroughly. Wonshik’s hands land on his back to steady him, and there’s a hard plastic tube in one of them.

Breaking the kiss, his fingers stroking through Wonshik’s hair (it’s getting too long, he notes absently), Hongbin says, “Please put your fingers inside me.”

Wonshik lets out a low groan and fumbles with the tube of lube, nearly dropping it. It takes him several moments to get his fingers to cooperate enough to get it open, and another few to get his fingers wet and to slide them down the crack of Hongbin’s ass until he finds his rim, leaving a sticky trail in his wake.

Hongbin makes encouraging noises and presses kisses to the side of Wonshik’s head, teeth straying to the shell of his ear and scraping a little just to feel the way Wonshik’s fingers spasm as he pushes one inside Hongbin.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” Wonshik hisses, holding very still.

Hongbin does it again, just to be contrary, and says, “You’re not going to hurt me, Wonshik.”

Wonshik shudders. “I have super-powered arms. I could definitely hurt you.”

“But you won’t.” A gentle kiss to Wonshik’s temple. “You’re my husband. I trust you. Now fuck me, please.”

Wonshik heaves a great, shaky breath. “Okay,” he mumbles, and then he starts moving again. His touch is still gentle and hesitant, no matter how many times they’ve done this. But Hongbin finds the careful, thorough prep incredibly hot, and makes sure that Wonshik knows exactly how much he likes it, moaning breathily into his ear, his fingers scrabbling at Wonshik’s shoulders.

Three fingers deep in Hongbin and shaking all over, Wonshik asks, “Are you ready?”

Hongbin kisses him, adjusts his seat in Wonshik’s lap as he nods. He slicks Wonshik’s cock himself, then braces his hands, lube and all, back on Wonshik’s shoulders.

Wonshik grimaces a little but doesn’t complain, and Hongbin kisses him again to mollify him before he sinks down on Wonshik’s cock, effectively making him forget all about his sticky skin. He’s just going to end up all sweaty and need a shower anyway.

Hongbin rocks slowly in Wonshik’s lap, getting used to his girth. It’s been a little while and he’s tighter than he’d like, but Wonshik is patient, making these overwhelmed little noises deep in his throat and clutching at Hongbin’s back like he’s afraid he’s going to disappear.

Hongbin shushes him, mouths along his jaw and then kisses him slow and deep. Wonshik’s tongue slips into his mouth, traces over his teeth.

Breathing hard, Hongbin breaks the kiss and finally starts to move, lifting himself up on his knees and then lowering slowly back down, listening to Wonshik groan and reveling in the fact that he made that happen. Wonshik only lets his guard down, only falls apart this much in front of Hongbin, _because_ of Hongbin.

He buries his face in Hongbin’s neck and starts to thrust up against him every time he drops down. His breath is hot against Hongbin’s sweaty skin and it makes him shiver.

It doesn’t take long before Hongbin’s thighs start to burn with exertion. He pants against Wonshik’s ear as his thrusts begin to slow and drops a hand to stroke his own cock.

“I’ve got you,” Wonshik mumbles, and wraps his super-powered hands around Hongbin’s hips, helping to lift him and speeding their pace again.

It’s a quick race to the finish line after that, fingers digging deep into sensitive skin, breathless kisses between “I love you”s and whispers of each other’s names.

Wonshik comes first, his whole body going still for a moment as his cock pulses inside Hongbin. Immediately after, he replaces Hongbin’s hand around his dick with his own, stroking him to completion as well.

Hongbin sort of melts on top of Wonshik afterwards, dropping lazy kisses to whatever skin is closest and forcing Wonshik to hold him upright.

Grunting, Wonshik leans back against the headboard. He runs his clean hand up and down Hongbin’s back a few times, sighing contentedly. “I love you,” he says.

“Love you too,” Hongbin mumbles, extremely blissed out and considering just going to sleep like this, no matter how gross he would feel when he wakes up. “I’m gonna have bruises tomorrow.”

“Shit, sorry,” Wonshik says. Hongbin doesn’t have to look to see the wince that passes across his face. This happens every time.

Hongbin bites him a little. “It’s fine. You’re gonna have some nice ones too.”

Wonshik lets out a little huff and squeezes Hongbin around the ribs, very gently. “Hazards of being married to a cyborg, I guess.”

“At least we’re in the same boat,” Hongbin mumbles.

“Mm,” Wonshik hums. “Shower?”

“No,” Hongbin whines, nuzzling into Wonshik’s neck and continuing to make pitiful noises.

Wonshik’s dirty hand slides up under his shirt, smearing come and lube across his skin.

“Oh my god, Lee Wonshik, you did not just do that,” Hongbin gasps, smacking at Wonshik’s shoulder and attempting to escape the vice-grip of Wonshik’s enhanced forearm across his waist.

Wonshik giggles, sounding far too proud of himself when he says, “Now you have to shower.”

“I hate you,” Hongbin mumbles. So much for this shirt.

“No you don’t.” Wonshik finally releases him and they sit up, and his soft dick sliding out of Hongbin is super weird and slightly uncomfortable. “You married me. And I know you’re not that much of a masochist, so….”

Hongbin smacks him again, careful to keep his considerable strength in check, and then slips from the bed.

“You know,” Wonshik calls after him, “I hate to see you go, but I _love_ to watch you leave.”

Hongbin makes an unintelligible noise of rage and slams the bathroom door behind himself. It’s not even worth scolding Wonshik for using an antiquated line like that; it never seems to discourage him from trying it again.

He’s in the shower by the time Wonshik joins him, looking sheepish. “Sorry,” he mumbles, giving Hongbin a soft kiss. “I know you hate that.”

Sighing, Hongbin lets Wonshik into his personal space, tugging him close and resting their foreheads against each other. “It’s fine. I knew you were like this when I married you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Wonshik murmurs. His hands rub gentle circles into Hongbin’s sides. Hot water pounds down on them, filling the little cubicle with steam, and everything is soft and comfortable. It still amazes Hongbin that this has become his normal. He never thought he would have something like this again, not after Youngji.

Hongbin kisses his husband, just because he can. “I love you,” he says. “And no amount of terrible four-hundred-year-old jokes is going to change that.”

“Good,” Wonshik says. He lifts a hand, wiggles his fingers at Hongbin, and his wedding band winks brightly in the florescent strip lighting that illuminates the shower stall. “Because you’re stuck with me now. This ring doesn’t come off.”

Hongbin bumps their noses together and replies, “I’ve never been happier about a decision that I can’t take back.”

Things are good. Hongbin thought he would never be happy again, after his wife died. He’s never been so glad to be wrong, because here with Wonshik, in this apartment that they own together, he’s the happiest he’s been in a very, very long time.

And after tomorrow, it’s just going to get better.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://phantomflutist.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PhantomFlutist) for writing updates, spoilers, ranting, and more!


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